Yewande*, 29, has been married to her husband for seven years. After he lost his job in 2023, she became the sole breadwinner of the household— a fact that’s making her resent her husband.
This is Yewande’s* story, as told to Itohan
I met my husband while I was still in university. My friend had dragged me out to a party hosted by one of her “friends”, and that was when I saw him. The first thing I noticed about him was how he seemed to know everyone. There was always someone or a group of people around him, laughing at something he was saying.
I didn’t get a chance to speak to him until much later in the night. Apparently, the guy who threw the party was toasting my friend, so we stayed later than most people. I got tired, and at my friend’s request, the host gave me the key to one of the rooms in the house to sleep in. While I was there, drunk and exhausted, Folarin*, my now-husband, walked in. He said he was the host’s friend and had been asked to watch me to make sure I didn’t hurt myself or get hurt. He told me I looked beautiful, and we talked for a huge part of the night till I fell asleep. When I woke up, I was alone on the bed, but he had written his number on a piece of paper and placed it under my phone.
I called him when I got home, and we talked for hours. He was in his final year, and I was still in 200 level, but it didn’t matter to me. He was just four years older. By 300 level, we were officially dating. By my final year, I was pregnant. When I found out, I told him I wanted to get an abortion. I’d promised myself I wouldn’t raise a child outside of wedlock. He was vehemently against it. He proposed to me on the spot, and the following week, he came with his family to my parent’s house to declare his intention to marry me. It all happened quickly, mostly because I didn’t want to appear visibly pregnant before the wedding. Within three months, I was married, pregnant, and in my final year at 22.
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After I graduated, Folarin and I moved in together. We lived in a two-bedroom apartment, and that’s where we had our daughter. It took me a while to start working again because Folarin insisted I stay home and raise the child until she was at least two years old, and I agreed. He had a decent job that allowed for money not to be an issue and assured me he could handle it.
However, after a year of staying home, I got restless. I was bored and itching to do something with my life that didn’t require changing diapers or losing sleep to care for a child. Around that time, Folarin got a promotion at work and was earning even more money. When I brought up the idea of returning to work, he was against it, so I didn’t bring it up again.
Just as I was about to start applying for jobs and register for NYSC, COVID-19 happened. Everyone was at home, and nobody was hiring. If anything, people were losing their jobs. Luckily for us, my husband kept his, but they reduced his salary. It wasn’t enough to make us homeless, but enough to make us cut down on certain things.
During this period, I took some free online courses. By the time restrictions were lifted, I had started applying for jobs without my husband’s knowledge. I didn’t tell him until I got an offer at a marketing agency. We needed the extra money, and our daughter was over two years old, so he couldn’t object.
By 2021, things were better. With our combined salaries, we moved into a bigger apartment and started saving to buy a car. We still kept our finances relatively separate but had a joint account for rent, crèche fees and other household expenses. The rest was for us to spend however we wanted.
In 2022, my husband got a job offer from a startup. It paid more than double his current salary, but I didn’t want him to take the job. I told him about all the things I’d read about how startups tend to pay well and shut down suddenly. It felt like I was talking to myself. He kept going on about how this new job would change our lives, introduce us to a new calibre of people, and give our daughter better opportunities. That’s why, despite my pleas, he took the job. My salary also increased around that time due to commissions, so things seemed even better. We bought a car earlier than planned, started going out more, and he started introducing me to his tech friends. I felt like he was living the life he always wanted, and I was content to be along for the ride. I saved as much as I could and worked hard, but I really liked my job. Things were great until tragedy struck.
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In 2023, my husband lost his job. The startup downsized, and let him go. He was upset and didn’t leave the house for weeks. No matter what I did, I couldn’t cheer him up. I stopped telling him about things happening at work because he’d either grumble or ignore me. I understood it was hard, so I let him be. Whenever I mentioned job hunting or asking his tech friends, he shut me down. I became the sole breadwinner, but I didn’t have a problem with it because we could afford it as long as we didn’t do too much. I thought we’d be fine until he got another job, but things got worse.
Folarin started nagging me about silly things. It started with the time I got home from work. He said I spent too much time in the office, and it made no sense why I’d return at 6-7 pm when the office closed at 5 pm. That annoyed me. We live far from my office because we chose the new apartment based on its proximity to his office. He claimed my lateness delayed his dinner, affecting his health. Then he started complaining about how I spent money, especially on my appearance. I tried to explain that looking good is a part of my job, but he just hissed and walked away.
Another thing he started doing was asking me to give him my ATM card when we went out with his friends, even though I’m the one paying the bill. The first time, I declined. He accused me of trying to embarrass him. I didn’t understand what was embarrassing about me paying for a meal, but he said it was emasculating. I didn’t answer him and I paid, but he didn’t talk to me for the rest of the day. Since then, I just let him.
The worst was when it came to his family. I found out that Folarin didn’t tell them he’d lost his job. They believe he’s the boss of the house, and I’m just using my job to keep busy. Almost every week, he asks me for large sums of money to send to his family. ₦50k for his sister in the university, ₦150k for his mum to attend a party, ₦230k for medication for his parents. I understand sending money home to care for the family, but we barely have enough as it is, and I can’t bring myself to tell them. I don’t want to distort their view of him, but I need him to be more reasonable.
I feel like I’ve come to the point where I kind of hate my husband. He sits at home all day doing God knows what, while I go to work and bust my ass off. When I return, our daughter is home with him, watching TV. Homework not done, shower not had, food not made or eaten. Then, I, the woman who had a busy day at the office, will have to change our daughter’s clothes, instruct her to do her homework, cook, and clean up after. I’m stressed out. I barely have time to do anything for myself.
I look older than I am, and I don’t have the energy to rest and recharge. The weekends I would have typically spent getting my wits together, Folarin insists we go out and hang with his tech friends, another expense I bear. To top it off, he keeps saying we should have a second child. How? I can’t afford to slack off at work or to take leave for so long. It’s such a competitive industry that time away can ruin my career. Plus, who will take care of the children? The bills? Children are ridiculously expensive. One child’s school fees is stressful enough, what happens with two?
Sometimes, just looking at him, there’s a foul taste in my mouth. My best friend says I indulge him. She’s told me to either get him to help around the house or insist he gets a job so we can afford help, but he doesn’t listen. He’ll say things about how a 9-5 is not meant for him and that the dreams he has are bigger than that. He keeps investing in these ridiculous get-rich-quick schemes with my money, and it bothers me. I’m thinking of leaving him, but I don’t want my daughter to grow up in a broken home. Then again, I also don’t think this situation is ideal for her. I just want a break.
